From Old Street Station walk east along the south
side of Old Street. Keep to the right and cross Tabernacle Street Paul Street, Great
Eastern Street and walk down Rivington Street. In about 110 yds turn right into Charlotte
Road. Mill's Court is about 35 yds on the left.

Mill's Court was once a quaint old place; a narrow passage with a
footway of shiny cobblestones from end to end; a place where Mr Pumblechook might have
raised his top hat to dear Mrs Quilp as she wobbled by in fear of here pursuing husband.
If only that was the scene today Mill's Court would show off its glory in true colours.
But alas, times have drastically changed and although the cobbles are still in evidence at
the Curtain Road end, this old passage is not like that at all. Apart from this treasured
paving the only remnant of bygone days is a derelict gents toilet faced in brown glazed
bricks and presently packed so tightly with bits of this and that so as to bar even the
most determined.

Walking through the Court from Curtain Road towards Charlotte Road we
look up to the signboard and windows of W A Hudson, furnishing brass founders. They have
occupied the premises for years and some there will probably remember the days when the
old convenience was a godsend to many a bypasser. Mr Pumblechook, however, was a few years
previous.

On a site near to here, in Curtain Road, the first of London's theatres
threw open its doors to the public in the late 1570's; it was known simply as 'The
Theatre'. Seven years later the Curtain Theatre, named after the road, was opened and
became the home of the Queen's Players Company. Shakespeare himself regularly performed
from its stage and it was here that the first performances of Romeo and Juliet and Henry
V were seen by a public audience. The Curtain closed its doors for the final time in
the late 17th century.

From Moorgate Station walk north along the west side
of Moorgate and at the first junction turn left into Ropemaker Street. Milton Court is at
the end of Ropemaker Street, across Moor Lane.

If you ever had the misfortune to find yourself living in a street
named 'Grub', what would be your first endeavour? - Probably to change it - and that is
exactly what happened in 1829. Milton Street, of which Milton Court is a tributary, was
once that famous thoroughfare which Dr Johnson described as 'much inhabited by writers of
small histories, dictionaries, and temporary poems... whence any mean production is called
grubstreet'. During the 17th century it was one of the dreariest streets
imaginable; occupied from one end to the other by makers of artillery equipment such as
bows, arrows, bowstrings, and similar articles. It was still a dull lifeless joint when
the place became haunted with hacks in the 18th century. The less successful, and so
poorer writers made up the population of Grub Street; poets and other literary men who
through lack of their own imagination climbed on the backs of their chart-topping
counterparts and claimed originality from poached writings. Many of these 'authors' would
feel no shame in stooping to the low level of writing pitiful begging letters in order to
make what often resulted in a prosperous living. There were, of course, those who could
not make a penny either way, like Samuel Boyse, a so-called poet who declined in wealth
and self esteem from a student at Glasgow University to a pauper of Grub Street. At his
lowest ebb he was totally without a strip of clothing to wear; everything he owned was at
the pawnshop. Unable to support himself he removed to a charitable lodging in Shoe Lane
where he died completely destitute in 1749.

In the Court itself General George Monk had his home. As soon as
Charles II had been restored to the throne in 1660 parliament requested that General Monk
be elevated to the position of High Steward in Westminster, but the King went one further
and created him Duke of Albermarle. There were few notable incidents in his life; he was a
man of sober habits but his son, the 2nd Duke, was a different kettle of fish. Christopher
was his name; he bought the sumptuous Clarendon House in Piccadilly and through living
well beyond his means had to dispose of it eight years later to raise cash. Sir Thomas
Bond purchased the site and thus we have the resulting Albermarle Street and Old Bond
Street.

With its shoddy reputation it is surprising that the name of Grub
Street remained for so many years. By 1829 the new breed of residents had suffered enough
of the ridicule and made an effort to cast off the old degrading image of the street,
launching their campaign by introducing a name change for the street. Why 'Milton' was
chosen is known only to those involved; some believe he was a respected resident, maybe
the leader or instigator of the campaign. Another possibility is the celebrated John
Milton who in his final years lived in nearby Artillery Walk, Bunhill Fields. When all
formalities were completed, renaming of the Court naturally followed suit.

Modern times have seen changes to the Court more drastic than a mere
switch of title. Over recent years the whole structure of this place has been transformed
beyond all imaginable association with the dismal hack days. From its narrow confining
walls Milton Court has now expanded to the dimensions more worthy of being termed a short
street. However, any proposal to change its classification would probably ruffle the fur
of the principal occupant, accountants Price Waterhouse - it being more swish to announce
that one has offices in a 'court'.

From St Paul's Station cross to the north side of
Cheapside and walk east along Cheapside. Cross Gutter Lane and then turn left into Wood
Street. Mitre Court is about 75 yds on the right, opposite Goldsmith Street.

Here stood the Mitre Tavern that
Ben Jonson kept in so high esteem that it inspired him to make mention of it in
'Bartholomew Fair'. We know also that Pepys valued the Mitre for he frequently dined there
and referred to it on the 18th September 1660 when he wrote in his diary that he went 'To
the Miter tavern, in Wood Street, a house of the greatest note in London,' where he met
some of his friends and their wives. We have no knowledge of his luck at gambling but he
was evidently not displeased with his success that night, for he found it necessary to
record that, 'Here some of us fell to handicap, a sport that I never knew before.' On a
more tragic note he tells us that in 1665 the landlord was a Mr Proctor and that he and
his son died of the plague on the 31st July in that year. Pepys adds 'and [he] was the
greatest vintner for some time in London for great entertainments.' Alas the Mitre is now
gone and near to its site is now the noisy Hole in the Wall.

In the courtyard is the old entrance that descends by way of railed
stairs under an iron canopy to what used to be a debtor's prison known as the Wood Street
Comptor. It was opened for use as a prison on the 28th September 1555 when all 'the
prisoners that lay in the Comptor in Bread Street were removed to this Comptor in Wood
Street.' (Stow). Its use as a prison ceased in 1791 when it was transferred to Giltspur
Street.

Mitre Court is a wide expanse consisting mainly of characterless
buildings - nothing like the place that John Stow and Samuel Pepys visited. Thomas More
was supposedly born in the Court and it is said that it was at one time the home of Dick
Whittington - but they would not recognise it either. Many years ago when the clientele of
the Mitre tavern was composed of old bowler-hatted men, the savoury aroma of sizzling beef
drifted across this Court; now, the most savoury aroma is that of a toasted cheese
sandwich.

As it takes its leave of Fleet Street by way of a short passage beneath
Mitre House, Mitre Court soon opens out into a small but attractive courtyard giving
access to Serjeants Inn, within the Temple. Adjacent to the Court with its frontage on
Fleet Street was the Elizabethan Mitre Tavern.

Although today many taverns claim to be the favourite haunt of Dr
Samuel Johnson, our most reliable evidence comes from his biographer James Boswell, and I
leave it for him to tell. 'I had learnt that his place of frequent resort was the Mitre
Tavern in Fleet Street, where he used to sit up late, and I begged that I might be allowed
to pass an evening with him there soon, which he promised I should'. That promise was
fulfilled on the 25th June 1763 'I called on him and we went thither at nine. We had a
good supper, and port wine, of which he then sometimes drank a bottle'. Only two weeks
later Boswell had arranged to entertain Johnson and four or five others at his lodging in
Downing Street. By misfortune he had engaged in a severe argument with his landlord the
previous day and decided to move out. Distressed by the situation he relayed his
predicament to Johnson. Never beaten by such trivialities the good doctor immediately
responded, 'There is nothing in this mighty misfortune; nay, we shall be better at the
Mitre'. So there you have it, sound proof of Johnson's affection for the tavern which once
stood here. Edmund Burke, Oliver Goldsmith and Sir Joshua Reynolds were all regular
visitors, clamouring, sometimes nightly, to debate with Johnson on the issue of the day.

Alas the Mitre was demolished in 1829 by Hoar's Bank to provide space
for an extension to their premises. The cellar of the old tavern, however, was allowed to
survive and is now incorporated into the basement of the bank.

There is still a tavern in Mitre Court, The Clachan, standing
gloriously among its legal neighbours. A house of no great antiquity, it occupies a site
with its back to Serjeants Inn.

From Ludgate Circus walk north along Farringdon
Street. About 150 yds on the right, just past Fleet Lane.

Modern Court is the property of Barclays Bank plc. It is situated at
the side of their premises, Fleetway House, at number 25 Farringdon Street and is
protected by sturdy iron gates. You can neither gain access to the place, nor will you
muster up the inclination. The Court was originally named New Court but that was many
years ago - when it was regarded as no longer new, they changed its name.

From St Paul's station cross to the north side of
Cheapside and walk east along Cheapside. Cross Foster Lane, Gutter Lane and Wood Street,
then turn left into Milk Street. Mumford Court is about 115 yds on the right, just before
Gresham St.

Mumford Court has now lost all of its old world charm and character. It
used to be a narrow little passage with quaint buildings and uneven paving but now it has
been transformed into a Tarmaced road with sufficient passing space for two vehicles.
Until earlier this century, the Fountain and Star, a fine old inn use to occupy a
prestigious spot along the Court but it was swept away by modernisation. Around the
corner, in Lawrence Lane was one of the most important coaching inns of Cheapside, the
Blossoms Inn. Coaches rumbled out of its yard by day and night, over-laden with passengers
travelling to all destinations west. Also long since disappeared was the Poulter's Tavern,
named from the poultry traders who had their stalls at the east end of the Cheapside
market. Every group of traders had their own spot in the market and around the western end
of this Court were the farmers and dairymen, with accompanying herds of cattle, selling
warm milk by the jug full. Hence we have Milk Street.

From Angel Station turn into St John Street and on
the west side cross Field Place and then turn right into Chadwell Street. In a few yards
turn left into Arlington Street. Myddleton Passage is then about 125 yds on the right.

When Hugh Myddleton, as a yound lad, made the journey from his native
Wales to tramp the streets he had heard were paved with gold, he had no idea that he would
soon have them running with water. As he wandered the treasured narrow ways, hoping to
earn the price of a crust of bread, a jeweller stepped outside his shop, looked up and
down and yanked the boy inside by the scruff of the neck. Amid the glitter of precious
stones and shining metals Hugh Myddleton was set to work on some menial task under the
ever watchful eye of his master. He took to his new found trade like a slug on a lettuce
leaf, acquiring within a few years an unrivalled skill and the determination to open his
own little shop and go it alone. It was while spending his time fashioning gold that
Myddleton was approached by James I with the proposition to become the royal jeweller; a
move that was to find him a place in the history of England.

One of the things that persistently niggled James I was the inadequate
supply of fresh water to the City of London, so in 1607 he set the ball rolling with a
challenge to any man who could devise a workable system. The result was a plan for an open
channel to drain water from the higher lands of Hertfordshire to the northern perimeter of
the City. Two years later Hugh Myddleton proved his worth by setting the scheme in motion
at his own expense by building a new water course twenty-one miles in length from the
River Lea to a small reservior in Clerkenwell. The project almost bankrupted him and when
he turned to the Corportation for financial assistance they bluntly refused - blaming the
cut in essential services on a lack of Government funding - so Myddleton sought
alternative backing from the King. Seeing the opportunity to earn a bob or two, James I
struck a deal with his 'goldsmith' to supply half the cost in return for half the profits.
When completed, the New River (as it is still called) flowed for thirty-eight miles from
its source near to Ware in Hertfordshire to the River Head, and Hugh was additionally
elevated to nobility by being made a baronett and thus became Sir Hugh. His commemorative
statue can be seen on Islington Green, at the junction of Essex Road and Upper Street -
where the toilets always seem to be locked.

As Myddleton Passage leaves Arlington Street it runs as a narrow path
along side the Shakespear's Head public house, before opening out into a tree-lined road
where there is a long row of yellow-bricked tenements. Soon the road turns through 90°
and emerges into Myddleton Square, opposite to St Mark's church.

From Liverpool Street Station cross to the east side
of Bishopsgate and walk north along Bishopsgate. Cross Middlesex Street, Artillery Lane
and Brushfield Street. Continue for about 175 yds and turn right into Spital Square. Cross
Stewart Street and Nantes Passage is about 55 yds on left, opposite the Market.

Since the late 15th century many of the houses situated around the area
of Spital Fields had been occupied by Flemish protestant weavers. They had built up a
reputation for fine quality products and a century later the number of workers in the
trade had increased multifold. An order proclaimed by the French authorities in 1598 - the
Edict of Nantes - gave religious freedom to French protestants, known as Huguenots. Its
revocation in 1688 caused thousands of refugee Huguenot silk weavers to leave France and
set up their workshops near to the Spital Fields. By the early 1700's the number of
weavers employed was over 30,000 and it is estimated that there were some 15,000 looms in
operation. The weavers adopted as their spokesman and campaigner, a local landowner by the
name of George Wheler. Having recently returned from France, he understood the lives of
the Huguenots, showed sympathy to their needs and built them a small chapel on the site of
this Passage. It was the first of twelve places of worship built over the following years
for the sole use of the silk weavers.

As fashions changed and cheap imitations were imported from the
Continent the prosperity of Spitalfields went into decline, forcing workers and their
families to move to cheaper housing. Further gloom hung over their heads as technical
advances lead to automation in the weaving industry, spelling out very clearly the
numbered days of the handloom. Steadily the French population decreased. One by one the
chapels were sold off or demolished and by the beginning of the 19th century there were
over 40,000 silk weavers without any form of work. The last of the chapels, on the corner
of Fournier Street and Brick Lane was taken over by the Wesleyan congregation, and in 1899
it was modified as a synagogue to serve the increasing Jewish community.

All of this area is in the midst of long-lasting suspense-pending
finalisation of building plans. Spitalfields Market has removed to another site, the
adjacent Flower Market too has been vacated and the Market Garage, on the west side of the
Passage, is broken and adorned with graffiti. It is also of worthy note that Nantes
Passage is of over-sized proportions in relation to its width and is in no way representative
of our image of a typical City passage.

From Covent Garden Station, cross Long Acre and turn
into Neal Street. Cross Shelton Street and Earlham Street then turn left into Shorts
Gardens. Neal's Yard is then on the right.

The Yard is attributed to Thomas Neal, associate of Nicholas Barbon,
one time Master of the Mint, and Groom Porter to Charles II. Both Neal and Barbon shared
similar obscure principles in relation to their business methods. They attracted
investment on the strength of their speculative propositions but usually came unstuck
through poor management. Neal was responsible for the construction in 1693 of the
converging roads known as Seven Dials where Monmouth Street cuts through the central hub
and five minor roads radiate out like spokes of a wheel. Its naming reflects not the
layout of the roads themselves, but the seven sundials mounted on a central column - one
facing each street. Although the diarist John Evelyn enthused over the design 'where seven
streets make a star from a Doric pillar placed in the middle of a circular area...', had
it been left to some of his fellow citizens the place might have been called 'seven
trials'. The column was removed in 1773 to Weybridge Green in Surrey and placed there as a
memorial to the Duchess of York.

Neither of the access openings to Neal's Yard can be regarded as
enterprising advertisements. From Shorts Gardens the way is as an uncared-for entry,
whilst the square covered entrance from Monmouth Street is almost a deterant to the
wanderer unfamiliar with this quarter. But any discouragement must be set aside, for this
is a fascinating place where most of the array of small shops occupy old warehouse
buildings of rugged brick. Neal's Yard is absolutely brimming with tiny eating houses,
many of them situated in the triangular section about half way along, where there are
always a good many people milling around. Next-door-but-one to Neal's Yard, in Shorts
Gardens, is Neal's Yard Dairy, the most complete cheese shop of all time, its shelves
sagging under the weight of well matured whole cheeses - a must for all lovers of cheese.

From Old Street Station turn into City Road (going
north). Keep to the left and cross Baldwin Street, Peerless Street. Pass Moorfields Eye
Hospital. Cross Caton Street and Bath Street. In about 75 yds turn left into Mora Street.
Nelson Passage is just on the right.

London boasts many memorials to Viscount Haratio Nelson. The most
obvious is, of course, the very well known column towering 170 feet high in Trafalgar
Square, erected to celebrate his victory at Trafalgar. There are other tablets and plaques
scattered about the City; a statue of the'modern' admiral in Deptford Town Hall, the
memorial stone over his final resting place, a monument in St Paul's Cathedral, and in
some way, Cleopatra's Needle on the Victoria Embankment. The 3,500 year old column was
offered to England in 1867 after Nelson came through victorious in the Battle of the Nile,
and after it had stood outside the palace of Cleopatra for 15 centuries.

Nelson Passage is perhaps not so readily attributed to the old sea dog
but it was named as a tribute to the Admiral, who succeeded at Trafalgar in 1805. There
are no monuments or relics on view here; on the contrary, it can be quite plainly and
truthfully stated that the most notable feature of this narrow walk-way is a solitary
characterless stump at the Mora Street access. Dirty high walls on one side and a
complimentary wire-netting fence on the other are the adequate descriptive syllables
required to paint a detailed picture of this insalubrious little cut-through. However, do
not despair; the rather more welcoming atmosphere of the Nelson public house in Mora
Street will help to gladden the heart and perhaps prepare your spirits for the equally
depressing experience of Guinness Court, across Lever Street.

Off the north side of Aldwych, between Kingsway and
the Law Courts, turn into Haughton Street. New Inn Passage is about 20 yds on the right.

Until the beginning of the 20th century New Inn was one of the Inns of
Chancery, so named because it was newer than Clement's Inn. The main entrance to the Inn
was from Wych Street, now non-existent, with New Inn Passage providing access to the rear.
Clement's Inn and New Inn both shared common relationships, they were regarded as the
creme de la creme and attracted the more respectable element of the largely questionable
legal profession. There were gardens of tree lined walks adjoining the Inn where members
of both societies - Clement's and New - mingled in recreation. So closely situated were
the two inns that until 1723, when a gate and railings were erected, there was little to
distinguish the division. In 1486 the members of New Inn leased from Sir John Fincox, Lord
Chief Justice of the King's Bench, a travellers hostel known as 'Our Ladye Inn'. This they
turn into New Inn Hall and for the convenience they paid a rent of six pounds per year -
'for more (as is said) cannot be gotten of them, and much lesse will they be put from it.'
One of the most notable members of New Inn was Sir Thomas More, Chancellor to Henry VIII.

In 1900 work commenced on the construction of Aldwych, Kingsway, and
the widening of the Strand and as a result of the proposed plans New Inn was disbanded and
demolished in 1903. Along with it also went Wych Street, Holywell Street, known as
Bookseller's Row, and a whole host of alley's and passages. High rise buildings are the
only present day feature of this remaining short cul-de-sac.

From Mansion House Station (Cannon Street south side)
walk east for about 70 yds and turn right into Queen Street. In about 20 yds turn left
into Cloak Lane and take the first right into College Hill. Newcastle Court is a few yds
on the right.

Here is one of those typical City crannies, so unperceived that if you
stand at its entrance and ask directions of passers by, you will scarcely find one in
every dozen who will be able to tell you. Enquire into the origin and you may well be
there all day without learning anything of significance. The name is a misleading error
made over a century ago by a sign maker joining the two words 'new' and 'castle'. It has
no connection whatsoever with that coal producing town in the northeast and neither does
it have any associations with a suburb of Stoke-on-Trent.

When London was recovering from the devastation left by the Great Fire,
Lord Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, took up an offer of a piece of land on the west side of
College Hill and erected 'a very large and graceful building'. The Villiers family already
held a large estate on the south side of the Strand but this was to be His Lordship's
business address 'for the more security of his trade, and convenience of driving it among
the Londoners.' He had an astute mind for business matters, introducing new ideas with an
explosion of enthusiasm, but his morals were too frequently laxed, leading to failure
after failure. John Dryden once summed up the strength of his commercial activities thus:
he was 'everything by starts and nothing long.'

By the end of the 17th century the Duke had abandoned his 'business
address' and the house was occupied by Sir John Lethieullier, alderman of the City and
elected sheriff in 1674. The house was demolished about 1730 and small merchants' houses,
collectively known as Castle's New Court, were built on the site. Over the following years
these houses gave way to office buildings, and successive development of the area has seen
the gradual elimination of the grand courtyard. In the name of Newcastle Court one small
part still remains, now merely a passage leading to a yard dwarfed and squeezed amid its
modern neighbours. There is little point in planning a stroll through the Duke's old
stomping ground at weekends - it is gated and padlocked.

Almost opposite, on the east side of College Hill is the
church of St Michael, Paternoster Royal. It stands on the ground that has supported a
church since about 1220, and first recorded in the Calendar of Wills of 1259 as
'Paternoster cherch' and in 1301 it is mentioned as 'Paternoster cherche near la Rayole'.
Paternoster is derived from the pre 17th century name of the lane - Paternoster Lane, the
habitat of the rosary makers. 'Royal' comes from the 12th century settlement of wine
merchants who imported their stock from the vineyards of Reole, Bordeaux -the area to the
northern end of College Hill became known as 'the Reole', (see Tower Royal).

ã No
reproduction, copy or transmission of this publication may be made without the
written permission of the author